


December Miracle

by futurevampiress



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Intimacy, Love Confessions, Mention of sexual acts, Sleepovers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futurevampiress/pseuds/futurevampiress
Summary: You convince your mom to let Bucky sleep over. Surprisingly, she says yes.





	December Miracle

You’ve been practicing the dance for weeks now, preparing for your best friend’s debut. The debut is a traditional Filipino coming-of-age celebration, which celebrates a young woman’s eighteenth birthday, the age of maturity in the Philippines. She asked you a year before if you wanted to participate in her Grand Cotillion Dance, usually a waltz, for the debutante. You agreed, and a few months later, you had your first practice.

The thing about the dance is that she chooses nine boys and nine girls to pair up and dance with each other. The boys represent her “roses”, a special dance she has with each of them, followed by the father-daughter dance. The girls represent her “candles”, where each girl makes a short speech about their relationship with the debutante and lights a candle. The party ensues afterwards, and ends with the debutante’s speech in which she shares her thoughts on life and extends gratitude towards the guests.

Luckily enough, she paired you up with Bucky.

You had no idea he was participating in this, but given that your friend was a social butterfly, it wasn’t so surprising. Bucky was a people person too, but he wasn’t going to do it unless Steve did it as well. She had no problem with that. The more the merrier.

The debutante, Rosemary, based the couples on their heights, and since you were the only one tall enough for him, she put you two together. You were absolutely thrilled, because you got to spend a lot more time with him outside of school. You two had gotten very close since the end of your junior year, and you couldn’t be happier about it. It was strange that it happened so quickly and out of the blue, but you didn’t care. He was an absolute gem and you were glad that you two had created such a strong friendship going into your senior year.

A very strong friendship.

See, the thing was, you two had gotten into the habit of becoming physically intimate. Touching arms without pulling away, laying your heads in each other’s lap, and even holding hands. Neither of you established that you were in a romantic relationship, but you were not about to bring that up. Instead, you were going to revel in the time spent with him this way. Hopefully he would be the one to bring it up first.

The first few practices were held at a GoodLife centre, and everyone first learned some steps before partnering up. Since the dance was primarily easy, you had no trouble remembering the steps at all. And apparently, neither did Bucky. The boy’s steps were the same as the girls, only backwards. When the choreographer–Rosemary’s aunt–asked everyone to go to their partners to practice to the music, you two did the best job. You were well synced with the music, transitioned smoothly, and only had one or two mistakes. Rosemary’s aunt praised you two for doing so well.

And when she held group practices at her home? You and Bucky performed the best out everyone. The both of you were the number one person to go to when someone couldn’t remember the steps, or needed help with certain transitions. But the group practices weren’t just for practices. You all hung out together and played games like Telestrations, Cards Against Humanity, and Cranium. One night, you and three of your other friends slept over at Rosemary’s house, the boys slowing leaving one-by-one. Bucky was the last to go, around eleven at night, and you two had been upstairs with everyone, but on the couch where you laid against him while he played with your hair. The moment Bucky’s mom showed up and he left, your friends pounced on you for answers.

“So are you guys dating or what?”

“How long has this been going on?”

“This is such a big step for you! I’m so proud! But seriously. Are you guys going out or what’s the deal?”

You easily dodged their questions, saying you didn’t really know yourself. You didn’t want to ruin what you had built up, so you weren’t going to jeopardize it by bringing up the topic. You were going to bask in it as long as you could.

Even going as far as asking him to sleep over at your house.

The two of you had discussed it as a possibility before, but neither of you knew what your parents would say about it. Guessing what your mom would say was pretty easy: a hard no. Bucky’s parents might be a little laxer about it, but you didn’t know that. Besides, a boy sleeping over at a girl’s house? It always causes an uproar, but you didn’t get the big deal. You could very well take care of yourself, not afraid to land a punch on someone who touched you without permission. But you know Bucky would never do that. He asks to hold your hand by brushing your fingers together; he gives you an open invitation to lay in his lap, but he always asks before laying down in yours. He was a gentleman, not a prick.

Nevertheless, you asked your mom one cold December night, if Bucky could sleep over. You kept pressing her, asking her what she thinks is going to happen. You told Bucky to ask his parents in advance, and they were cool with it. As long as he came home safely the next day. You told your mom that yes, his parents agreed, and that you didn’t see what the big deal was. After an almost fight, she approved, and you excitedly texted Bucky the good news.

The most amazing part of the whole thing was that he’d be sleeping over on Friday the 19th, the same day that your English class is going to see the third and final installment of The Hobbit film series. And you were given the car that day, so you would be able to drive him to your house, and for a quick group practice at Rosemary’s. It couldn’t get better than that.

The day of, you and Bucky were shaking with excitement. He brought an extra bag to school, packed with his pajamas and other sleepover essentials. He left it in his locker for the day, and is only going to take it out when you’re driving him to your home after school is over. You sat together on the bus ride to the theatre, chatting the entire way. You also sat beside each other in the theatre, and held hands throughout the whole movie, letting go only to wipe the sweat off your hands. You didn’t really know what was going on since you hadn’t seen the previous two movies, so Bucky gave you a rundown before it began. Near the end you were nearly crying, but you sucked those tears back to not embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Your teacher gave the class thirty minutes to do whatever they wanted after that. Since the theatre is connected to a mall, the lot of you went adventuring. You bought some pocky from the Asian supermarket and shared it with Bucky. You didn’t have the courage to play the pocky game with him though; there were too many spectators nearby.

Once you returned to school, you quickly grabbed what you needed from your locker, and twirled the car keys in your hand as you skipped on over to Bucky, patiently waiting for him. You were excited as anything just to be able to drive the car, but taking Bucky with you? It was an added bonus. When you got home, you were greeted with silence, as both your parents were still at work. Your mom works until five o’clock, and your dad eleven o’clock. Your sister was living in an off-campus residence, so you two had plenty of time to yourselves. You showed him where the bathroom was, and also your room. Albeit a little messy, you weren’t in a big enough panic to clean it up. After that, you passed the time by watching the finale of one of Bucky’s favourite shows before leaving to go to Rosemary’s for dance practice.

You two were the only ones that hadn’t arrived yet.

After a pretty laid-back practice, a few rounds of Telestrations, and Bucky braiding your hair, it was time to head home, where the real fun would start. You were a little nervous because your mom was home and she had also picked up your sister from her residence. You didn’t think it’d be much of a big deal, though. Your sister is very easy-going, and knew about Bucky since the summer. Bucky is incredibly nice, so your mom shouldn’t have any problems with him.

She doesn’t.

Bucky has dinner with you, and thankfully it’s something he likes. He’s very polite, and makes your mom and sister laugh. He shares some stories here and there, but you make sure he doesn’t spend too much time with them. Besides, it’s a Friday night. Your mom goes out with her sisters, and your own sister has some plans of her own. They’ll be gone for hours, giving you plenty of time to spend with Bucky, and waste the night away. You bring Bucky downstairs, and tell him to put his stuff wherever he likes. He plops his bags on the couch.

“You’ll be sleeping down here,” you say, moving the coffee table. “Since we don’t have an extra bed, you’ll be using a futon. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect,” he smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Our couches are pretty squishy if the futon is too flat,” you add, going to drag the futon out of the laundry room. “They’re comfortable, but the sunlight can be a bitch in the morning when it’s shining on your face.” You flop the futon on the carpet, and Bucky helps you push it against one of the couches. You go to one of the closets and pull out multiple comforters, then fling them down on the floor. “And, of course, we have lots of protective barriers. Do you mind?”

Bucky helps you put down three comforters over the futon, then use the pillows from the couches as a lining for your heads. You go upstairs to your room to grab your own pillow, then one of your sister’s that she doesn’t use, and head back down. You see Bucky sprawled out and smile down at him, and gently throw his pillow on his face.

“Comfy?” you ask, sitting down next to him.

“Actually, yes,” he answers, happily smushing his face into the pillow. You stretch yourself out and lay down next to him, clutching your pillow close to you.

“Good.”

“You sleeping down here too?”

“I dunno. Do you want me to?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Alright then.”

You two smile at each other, then laugh like a bunch of idiots. You turn over on your back and stare at the ceiling.

“So,” you start, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s still a little bright outside. We can go to the conservation area and be eaten alive by mosquitoes, go for a walk, stay in, or even–“

“I think I’d like to stay in,” he interrupts.

“Alright.” You gesture to the cabinets surrounding the TV. “We have lots of movies to choose from, and we also have Netflix if you prefer that.”

“Sweet.”

He gets up from his spot and crawls to the left cabinet, browses for a minute, then shifts over to the right cabinet. He looks at you over his shoulder, and smiles to himself when he sees you on your phone. He gives one last look to the movies before joining you on the futon again.

“I think it’ll be a Netflix night,” he says.

“Okay then,” you nod. “Oh! There’s food upstairs. Take and make whatever you want. The half bath is right over here. There’s drinks in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer through the laundry room. Aaaand if there’s anything you need, just lemme know.”

“Sounds great,” he smiles.

The two of you stare at each other softly, your fingers brushing together at your sides. You look at him like he’s the most important person in the world. And he is; to you, at least. You’re not so sure about him, but if he’s willing to spend this much time with you and even sleep over at your house, then you must be pretty damn special. You like to think you are. His smile grows wider as he wraps his pinky securely around yours. You smile sheepishly and avert your gaze towards the pillows instead. He laughs quietly to himself and pulls you closer to him to envelop you in a hug. You giggle into his chest, and he rubs his hands up and down your back.

Better not let the rents see this.

You want to wrap your arms around him so badly, but to get this night going, you have to get the preparations in place. You peek up at him, giving his lips a quick glance before looking into his eyes.

“You gotta let me go,” you say, a little muffled behind his arms.

“I don’t wanna,” he says, hugging you tighter.

“I gotta get stuff for us!” you defend. “Food and drinks and all that. Plus, I gotta change into my pjs. Jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing to relax in, y’know.”

He hums, contemplating about letting you go. If you go, he’ll be lonely and cold for a solid two minutes. But on the other hand, he’ll get to snuggle the shit out of you in your comfy pyjamas under the warm blankets and watch movies with you all night long. He goes with the latter.

“Okay, fiiine,” he whines, unraveling himself from you. “Get a move on.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” you say, skipping up the stairs to your room. Your change into one of your clean band shirts, and throw on some loose shorts. You go to the bathroom and undo your braid to brush your hair a bit, and check to see if you have anything in your teeth. You freshen up a bit by patting some cold water on your face, then throw in a popcorn pop-up bowl in the microwave. You sit on the counter and kick your legs, patiently waiting for it to be done. Your heart pounds just thinking about cuddling Bucky again. He’s so warm and cozy, and smells incredible. You bashfully look towards the floor, and jump a little when the microwave goes off. You gather two paper towels for yourselves, tear off the seal of the bag, then head on back downstairs.

“I’m baaack,” you announce. You can see Bucky’s head just slightly over the couch. He’s figured out how to work the TV, and already has the Wii on. He’s also changed into his pjyamas, now sporting a wrinkly grey shirt and some basketball shorts. You stifle a laugh at his attire.

“I brought sustenance,” you say, carefully setting the popcorn down. “Do you want a drink? We have Diet Coke, Diet Sprite, water, lemonade, and Fruitopia.”

“Water please.”

“Bottle or glass?”

“Bottle.”

“Okie dokie.”

You grab a water from the fridge downstairs and take a Diet Sprite for yourself. You toss him his water, then stare down at the futon, wondering if you’re missing anything. You got some food, drinks, the bed is set up, Netflix is ready to go, your phone is near you. So far so good. You turn off the lights, then make your way over to him.

“Alrighty then,” you smile, settling yourself on the right side of the bed. “I think we are good to go.”

“I think so too,” he agrees. He clicks on your Netflix user, and starts browsing through movies as you start eating some popcorn. “What do you wanna watch?”

“You pick,” you tell him, watching him scroll. “There’s some pretty good stuff on here, so I’ll probably watch anything.”

“Anything?” he repeats, a little skeptical.

“Okay well obviously not anything,” you clarify. “But most. So go on. Pick something that won’t make me fall asleep.”

“Rightyo.”

“And no fuckin’ horror movies, either. I’ll fight you on that.”

“I know, I know. I promise I won’t pick one of them.”

After browsing through the genres for a few minutes, he settles on Inglorious Basterds. You get giddy from his movie choice, and settle yourself on your side, pillow firmly placed behind your head. Bucky sinks down as well, but holds up the popcorn to slide in next to you. You nonchalantly lay your head on his chest, and he wraps his arm around you, placing the popcorn in his lap.

“I love this movie,” you say. “It’s so funny for some reason. Plus, it’s fun seeing Nazis getting scalped.”

“How many times have you seen this?” Bucky asks, smiling down at you.

“Only a few times,” you say. “But it’s always a good watch. And don’t make fun of me if I cry. War movies make me cry.”

“I won’t,” he whispers.

Throughout the movie, the two of you never let go of each other. You feed each other popcorn, with you jokingly shoving some in his face, and he retaliating by licking your palm. You laugh at all the Nazis getting killed, and admire the badassery of Shosanna. You think it’s a pretty fantastic idea that major scenes in the movie are spoken in French and German; it gives you an idea of how they would speak, and that not everyone spoke English in certain parts of the country. It gives it a sense of realism, and because it actually makes you pay attention to what’s going on. The tavern scene always makes you tense, despite knowing what’s going to happen.

“It’s amazing how much they can remember,” you whisper as the scene progresses. “It all seems like it was done in one take.”

“Especially in another language,” Bucky adds.

“Well they were all born in Germany,” you comment. “So it must’ve been a little easier for them. But still. It’s a lot of dialogue.”

Once there’s no more popcorn, you set it behind you on the couch and completely settle against Bucky. You wrap an arm around his chest, and snuggle your face into him. You can feel him laugh. He starts threading his fingers through your hair, and you swear you could fall asleep right this second. But that’s unacceptable tonight. You have to get at least three movies in, and then you can fall asleep. You pat around the bed for his free hand, and loosely lock your fingers together. Bucky doesn’t pull away, but he squishes his cheek on your head. You smile to yourself and enjoy the rest of the movie in the most comfortable silence.

As always, you praise Shosanna for trapping and killing the Nazi leaders, along with Raine for carving a swastika into Landa’s forehead at the end of the movie. When the credits start rolling, you sit up and stretch, sighing contently when a bone in your shoulder pops.

“Ahhh. I love that movie. Nothing like seeing Nazis get what they deserve on a Friday night.”

“You can say that again.”

You give him a tired, sort of dreamy look as you stare at him over your shoulder. He stares right back, giving you a wide grin in return.

He’s so goddamn cute what the fuck.

“Would you like anything else to eat?” you ask. “There’s chips, cereal, poptarts, apples, all of sister’s vegetables, ummm. Granola bars, crackers, ice cream.”

“I’ll take an ice cream please,” he says.

“Okay, do you want an ice cream bar-slash-stick, or a bowl of ice cream?” you clarify. He pulls his lips to the side as he thinks about it.

“Bowl,” he smiles.

“Why don’t you come upstairs so you can take as much as you want?” you offer, already heading towards the stairs. Bucky follows right behind you, and leans against the counter as you bring out a tub of heavenly hash ice cream. You plop it on the counter and get two glass bowls and two spoons, then start scooping out your own.

“There’s also sprinklesss,” you say, going to the spice cabinet to retrieve them.

“Nice,” Bucky says, taking it from your hands. He shakes the bottle and fiddles with it as you make your bowl. He cheekily sticks his finger in and licks it off, laughing when you yell.

“You little shit,” you say, tapping the end of your spoon on his nose. You snicker at the ice cream left behind. He tries to extend his tongue to lick it off, but he falls short. He wipes it away with the back of his hand and playfully shoves you aside to prepare his own ice cream bowl.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you say, squinting at him. “Otherwise I would’ve smacked a whole spoonful of ice cream on your face.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, scooping ice cream into his bowl. “I know my place.”

“I hope so,” you tease. “’Cause then I won’t cater to you anymore.”

“Not even to your own guest,” he sighs, shaking his head. “What kind of host are you?”

You just laugh at his reaction and shake some red and green sprinkles on your ice cream as he finishes his. You put the tub back in the freezer, then scoop up your bowl and go back downstairs with Bucky.

You two sit comfortably back on the futon, and eat your dessert in a relaxing silence. You think about dotting Bucky’s face in more ice cream, but opt not to to avoid having a mess on the bed. Once you’re both finished, you set your bowls on the couch, which will be the place to dump things for the night before bringing it all back up when you’re going to sleep. You lay your head down in Bucky’s lap, and wrap your arms around his waist. You rub your nose in his stomach and hug him tightly.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, his hands immediately going to your hair.

“Letting all the food digest,” comes your muffled reply. You peek up through your hair and grin at him. He grins right back, and twirls his fingers around your hair.

Another silence ensues, but neither of you mind. It’s nice to have these moments together, just enjoying each other’s presence and exchanging small, soft touches. You rub your thumbs along Bucky’s sides, and he rubs your back with his free hand. He puts his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, breathing softly. You notice how quiet he’s gotten, so you look up at him again. You smile gently, watching his chest rise and fall. You see the corner of his mouth tug into a smile. He opens one eye and peers down at you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” he asks.

“You,” you reply. You squish your cheek on his stomach, and scrunch your nose when he makes an amused face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your face.”

“Wow, okay.”

“What? I’m not making fun of you!”

“Sure sounds like you are.”

“Alright, fine. I take it back.”

“Nope. No take-backs.”

“You get mad when I say your face is funny and you don’t want me to take it back? You sure are something, _______.”

You just shrug as a response, and go back to admiring his face. You shift your body so you’re laying on your back, and turn your head sideways to look at him. Bucky sits up and stares down at you, his hands now firmly planted on the futon. You have fun gazing into his eyes, and never get tired about how blue they are. They’re so warm and inviting and blue. It’s amazing how he was blessed with something so beautiful.

Bucky inches closer and closer to your face, and your heart thumps in your chest. Your eyes widen in the slightest when he doesn’t stop. You’re too nervous to tear your eyes away, so you keep your eyes trained on his. At first, he just boops your nose with his and smiles about it. You smile with him, albeit uneasy. Your stomach drops though when he leans down even further… and kisses you.

Bucky just gave you your first kiss.

You knew a few months in that you liked Bucky, and since the initiation of physical contact, you were wondering when and where you would kiss him, if it were to ever happen. You did not expect it to be at your house, in your basement, while the two of you watched movies all night cuddling on the futon. You did not expect this at all.

He pulls away after a few seconds, and flicks his eyes at you. Your eyes are still closed, trying to process this correctly. There’s only one possible answer as to why he decided to kiss you, so you’re going to take it. When you finally have the courage to open them again, you see Bucky staring at you, clear as day, waiting for your reaction. You have to look away into his chest again because the contact is so intense. Bucky takes your response as rejection, and slowly sits back up, clearing his throat. Seeing as how he’s interpreting you differently, you quickly reassure him.

“I’m not mad,” you say, still not able to look him in the eye. “I’m just… surprised. Happily, surprised. I didn’t know that… you felt like that.”

“Well, I thought that enough was enough and to just do it,” he replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You smile at that, and finally cast him a glance again. You reach your hand up to cup his cheek, and brush your thumb under his eye. He smiles down at you tenderly, and cups your face as well.

“I like you, _______,” he says confidently. “Like, like you, like you.”

“So do I,” you agree, your smile growing bigger. You have to hide your face again because you’re so ecstatic about it. However, Bucky turns your face back towards him, and closes the distance to give you another kiss.

You actually participate this time instead of acting like a dead fish. You move your lips against his, trying to figure out if you’re doing it right. Since this is now the second time he’s kissed you, you want to make sure that he’s actually enjoying it instead of bearing it. You don’t think Bucky’s ever kissed anyone either, so maybe he’s in the same boat as you. Your hand finds its way into his hair, and you revel in how soft it is. He sneaks his free hand under your back and hoists you up in his lap. You giggle at him and press your forehead against his shoulder.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” you say, wrapping your arms around him again.

“Not as cute as you,” he half-mocks, hugging you as well. He groans quietly when he smells your hair, and keeps a sturdy grip on you. He kisses one part of your neck, and shivers go down your spine. You twitch in his arms, and he cheekily gives you another kiss in the same spot.

“That tickles, Bucky,” you protest, pushing yourself away from him. You don’t not like it, but you want to take this night slow and steady, since it’s going in a new direction now. “I like it, it’s just–“

“Too soon?” he finishes. You shrug, not really sure of yourself. Did it feel good? Yes. Would you let him do it a third time? Definitely. Are you going to? There’s no harm in it. Maybe once you’re going to sleep you’ll let him do it again. You’ll see when the time comes.

“Just not now,” you tell him. “Maybe later.” You give him a little wink, and part of him almost dies inside. He grabs you again, and makes you laugh by tickling your sides. You instantly scream-laugh, and try to get out of his grasp.

“B-Bucky! Bucky s-stop!” you yell.

“Make me,” he tries.

“I-I’m not res-responsible for any i-injuries I in-inflict!” you warn him.

“Try me,” he challenges, tickling you more.

“Bucky, no, stop!” you scream, tears forming in your eyes. He lets you go after a few more of your screams, and you crawl away from him to catch your breath.

“You’re such a little bitch,” you huff, a small laugh coming through. “The fuck is wrong with you, huh?”

“Is it that much of a crime to want to hear you laugh?” he asks, putting his hands behind his head.

“Well when you wanna tickle it out of me, yes,” you say, rubbing your sides. “And you’re not even ticklish so I can’t do the same to you!”

“You make me laugh everyday, _______,” he says.

“Yeah, but not like that,” you say. “I haven’t heard you scream-laugh before or do that kind of laugh where no sound comes out and you clap your hands like a seal.”

“Now why would there be any reason for me to do that?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. He sports that kind of cocky smile, and it makes you bite your lip. You can’t help but to want to just devour him when he pulls looks like that, but you restrain yourself every time. Now that he’s just kissed you, you’re not so sure how well you can hold back.

“I dunno,” you shrug. “I think it’d just be nice to hear. And see.”

“Well if you make a funny enough joke, maybe you’ll see the day yet,” he says.

“I fuckin’ hope so,” you say, sliding up next to him again. “’Cause you’re really hot when you laugh.”

You pick up the Wii remote and keep your eyes trained on the TV, and scroll through your list to choose another movie. You take your time, giving each option a five second glance. Bucky’s response to your compliment is to wrap his arm around you and kiss the top of your head. You smile widely, and nuzzle your face against his chest as you keep scrolling. You eventually settle on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, since you haven’t seen it in a while. Before you start you ask Bucky if he wants anything else to eat, and start listing off what you have.

“Chips, please,” he says.

“Alrighty.”

You make both of you a bowl, and hand him his once you go back downstairs. And instead of Bucky holding you, you hold him this time. You put your legs under the covers and spread them out to let Bucky in. At first he protests because he’s fine just leaning against you, but you don’t have it. He gives in, and settles himself between your legs. You pull the covers over him and lean back against the couch. Pressing play, you settle your free hand over his thigh; he rests comfortably against you, sighing quietly.

When you’re done your chips, you wipe your fingers on the couch behind you, and immediately start petting his hair. It flows easily through your fingers, and he smells like boy. You cannot believe how incredible he is, even when he’s doing nothing. He finds your free hand laying against his thigh, and strokes his thumb over your skin. You smile; that certain action of affection is one of your favourites.

Every time Cameron does or says something you agree with in the movie, you say “same”, making Bucky laugh.

“Maybe I should start calling you ‘Cameron’ from now on,” Bucky jokes.

“Go right ahead,” you say, setting your chin on his head. “Not every bystander knows my name. It’d confuse the hell outta my family, but I’m sure my sister would be able to relate.”

He cranes his neck up to pull a confused face at you. You just smile proudly at him and give a quick peck to his lips before going back to threading your fingers through his hair. He groans and nuzzles his head into your hand, trying to be discreet about it. When you stop moving your hand, he stretches his neck out until he feels his head hit your palm like a cat. You snort at how cute he is.

As the movie progresses, Bucky slouches himself more between your legs. His head is now on your stomach, and he’s turned on his side a bit. He seems sleepy from this angle. You can’t see his face, so you don’t know if he’s actually fallen asleep. You try leaning forward to see his face, but he’s too far away.

“Yo,” you call, gripping his shoulder. “You awake?”

“All good here,” he replies, giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, good,” you say. “Can’t have you falling asleep when it’s not even eleven yet.”

“You have such little faith in me,” he complains, throwing you a look over his shoulder.

“Well,” you start, gesturing to him. “You look pretty comfy and you’re really quiet.”

“We’re watching a movie,” he points out. “Of course I’m gonna be quiet.”

“Yeah, but still…”

Bucky smiles warmly at you, and turns back around to flop against your stomach. He groans and wraps his arms around you, his hand sliding up your back. You squish his cheeks together and make him look up at you. You kiss his forehead in an attempt to be more affectionate. Bucky gives you a muffled “the fuck” before nuzzling his entire body into you.

“Buckyyy,” you whine. “Stop that. You’re such an adorable goofball. Get out of my face.”

“I’m not even in your face,” he says into your stomach.

“You know what I meaaaan.”

Bucky fixes his grip on you and pulls you down on your side with him. He peppers kisses all over your face, and it makes you squeal. You try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he just pulls you right back in. You just give up and let him do as he pleases; it’s not like you hate it anyway. He starts kissing you again, and when you’re getting into it, you hear the front door open and slam close. You pull away from Bucky at record speed and put your hand over your chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, catching your breath. You hear your sister yell “hello”, and you shout it right back. Everything is fine until you hear your mom’s voice. “Ahh shit.” You look at the time; not as late as she usually comes home, but she had to come home sometime. You sigh sadly, and look at Bucky. He gives you a confused smile.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“They’re home, obviously,” you say. “My sister doesn’t give a shit about this, but my mom does.”

“What’s there to be mad about?” he questions, shuffling closer to you.

“Well,” you start, staring up at the ceiling. “When you first came here, we were just friends that hung out a lot and decided to have a sleepover. She was really fighting me on it, but she ultimately said yes. But she has no idea that we’re…”

“Going out now?” he finishes, smiling warmly at you.

“Yeahhh,” you say, a little embarrassed about it.

“We just won’t tell her then,” he suggests. “When she comes down here, we’ll be five feet apart, minding our own business. And anyone else for that matter. When does your dad get home?”

“Eleven thirty,” you say. “He’s the one that just has to comment on everything. So I’m sorry if he offends you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says, holding your hand. You give him a squeeze, looking behind you. You can see your sister’s feet at the top of the stairs. You let go of Bucky’s hand as she makes her way down.

“Do you guys want any McDonald’s?” she asks. You perk up instantly. “Mom’s hungry for something greasy and so am I.”

You and Bucky sit up and look at each other at the same time, suggesting the same thing. “Sharebox? Sharebox.”

“Okayyy,” your sister laughs. “And drinks?”

“Rootbeer.”

“Diet Coke, please.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back in half an hour, give or take.”

She disappears back upstairs, and now you couldn’t care less about what your mom sees. Or your dad. You get to have the Sharebox with Bucky. Twenty nuggets, two fries, two drinks, and two cookies. You couldn’t be more excited now. In the meantime, the pair of you watch the end of Ferris Bueller before choosing another movie to watch. You settle on Knowing, starring Nicolas Cage. You chose the movie mostly because you’ve seen it before and you like it, but also because it’s Nicolas Cage, one of the biggest memes out there. Forty minutes in, the front door opens again. You hear your sister and your dad come in.

“Oh, great.”

Your sister comes down first, turning on the lights and handing you the Sharebox, along with your drinks. Before either of you can start eating, your dad comes down to give you a greeting. Your act normally, but you’re ready to defend Bucky if your dad says something out of line.

“Hey, _______,” he says to you first. “And you must be Bucky. How’s it goin’?”

So far so good.

“I’m doing great, thanks very much,” Bucky says, extending his hand to your dad’s. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Yeah, likewise, likewise,” your dad says. “So what’ve you guys been up to?”

“Well we went to Rosemary’s for practice first,” you say. “Then we came back here and we’ve been watching movies all night.”

“Oh really?” he says. You know exactly what kind of tone that is.

“Yeah,” you say. “We’re on our third one now with a very late night snack. So if you don’t mind…”

“Okay, I see how it is.” He laughs in that good-natured kind of humour, bids both of you goodnight, and heads back upstairs. You sigh a breath of relief.

“Fuckin’ finally,” you say, opening the box. “Hopefully they all stay up there.”

“I think they’re pretty nice,” Bucky says, shoving a whole nugget in his mouth.

“That’s good and all, but I don’t want them down here for the rest of the night.”

Bucky almost spits out his nugget from laughing at you. You just shake your head at him, judging silently. He swallows and laughs that loveable laugh before ripping off one of the box handles and squirting some ketchup packets onto it. As expected, you feed each other nuggets and fries and cookies, and finish it all before getting comfortable again to watch the last movie of the night. You take all the garbage upstairs so it’s not a problem in the morning, then turn off all the lights as you come back. You say another goodnight to your family members before joining Bucky on the futon once more.

You get a text from one of your friends, and open it before laying against Bucky.

“can you suck his dick and then tell me what’s it’s like”

You cover your mouth in shock, your eyebrows shooting up as well. Of course she would ask something like that.

“Something wrong?” Bucky asks.

“No, nothing, nothing,” you say, hastily replying to the text.

“Um how about nO”

You put your phone on silent then toss it back on the couch. This time, you put your head in his lap, but use your pillow to support yourself. Bucky settles his hand on your back, rubbing your back in comfort. He’s seen this movie before as well. He’s very into the apocalyptic, end-of-the-world type movies, horror and comedy alike. He wouldn’t mind ignoring the movie to have some more make-out sessions with you and feel his hands on your skin.

If you allow it, anyway. He’s a gentleman.

You periodically stretch your legs and hug your pillow, and you find yourself getting sleepy. Your eyes don’t burn from watching the TV, but you’re exhausted from today’s activities. Laying against Bucky under layers of comforters also adds to the fatigue. You’re sure Bucky’s at least a little tuckered out as well, but you never know. You don’t know his sleep patterns.

His hand finds your hip, and his other one twirls your hair. You groan from being so content, and Bucky takes a sharp breath. He is definitely not one to immediately think of innuendos, but when you make that noise, he can’t help himself. However, he quickly pushes those thoughts away and focuses on the movie. Although, he looks away again to stare at the back of your head. He loves playing with your hair, and he knows you love it too. To distract himself from being indecent, he leans forward and starts braiding different parts of your hair. You feel him tugging and raise a brow.

“What’re you doing?” you whisper without turning around.

“Braiding your hair,” he whispers back. “Stay still.”

“Awww, thaaanks” you smile.

“Shh. I need silence.”

“Pfft okay.”

You’re slightly more awake now, but just so you don’t fall asleep while Bucky’s braiding your hair. For one, it’d be rude, and for another, it feels too nice to miss out on. While he’s on his third braid, you smirk as you think of something completely stupid that he’d be up for.

“Wanna make-out during the scary parts?” you ask.

You feel his fingers stop for about five seconds before he finishes it. He rolls you over on your back and holds your face as he kisses you. You don’t question it and kiss him back, snaking your hand in his hair.

“Sure,” he quickly answers, smirking against your mouth. He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you up so you’re sitting in his lap. You straddle him, hands on his neck, and restrain yourself from rolling against him. He squeezes your hips, making you twitch. Taking a risk, he sticks his hands under your shirt to feel your skin. You gasp and pull away from his mouth, but keep your hands around his neck.

“Is this okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” you quickly reassure him. You’re definitely not opposed to it; it’s just a different feeling to be touched like this. His fingertips ghost over your skin, sending goosebumps down your arms and spine. You bite your lip, and hurriedly mull over what to do next in your head. If you think you’re going too far, despite what your body tells you, then you’ll stop. Easy as that.

Except it’s not easy when it’s Bucky that’s touching you.

He’s so gentle, always aware of the boundaries. His hands never come close to your front, and he’s only going to when–if, you’re okay with it. For now, he presses his fingers into your back, exploring your skin. You go back to kissing him, and keep your hips completely still in his lap. You don’t want to deal with the consequences if something happens. You want to touch him too, but since you’re on top of him, he gets that privilege. For now.

You sink lower in his lap until you’re eye-to-eye. Bathed in the darkness, with the only light source being the TV, he looks like he’s about to devour you. His eyes are half-lidded, his mouth parted, his stare intense. Your stomach drops from how hot he looks right now. You repress a moan and take control now, gently holding his face and closing your eyes as you give him slow, sensual kisses. He lowers his hands to your hips again, and you lower yourself as well. To his neck. You start kissing along his impeccable jawline, then delve into his neck. You’ve never done something like this before in your life, and you’re scared as hell that you’re not doing it right, but when you hear Bucky sighing in satisfaction, your worry melts away. He puts his head back against the couch, turning it to the side for better access. You don’t care give him a hickey, because that just seems… a little awkward. And embarrassing. Kissing will suffice.

You slowly pull away, flicking your eyes towards him. He still has his closed, and keeps them closed for a solid minute before finally opening them. He conveys the most loving expression he can muster, hoping that you get the message. You seem to understand him a bit, because you give him a soft smile in return. He can’t take your adorableness and drags you down to the bed to cuddle the shit out of you.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he says, kissing the top of your head. You don’t respond, mostly because he’s squishing you, but you couldn’t even if you tried. You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, and mumble a small “thank you”. The two of you actually manage to pay attention to the whole movie this time. When it’s over, you turn off the Wii and TV, then get out of bed to brush your teeth, despite Bucky grabbing your legs in an attempt for you to stay. Bucky does the same thing however, grabbing his toothbrush from his bag and joining you in the bathroom. Once the bedtime routine is complete, you both flop back onto the futon and hold onto each other.

You pull your pillow down between your bodies, and wrap an arm around Bucky’s waist. He does the same, his other hand resting behind his head. You curl up your free hand against Bucky’s chest, and gently hang onto his shirt. Bucky presses his mouth into your hair, and sighs tiredly.

“Goodnight, _______,” he whispers.

“Night,” you say, pressing your forehead into his chest.

You yawn sporadically for the next few minutes, trying to fall asleep. It’s well past one in the morning, you’re jaded from the entire day, and you’re snuggling into Bucky; falling asleep should be no problem. But just because one new surprise is added into the mix, it’s not going to change your sleep pattern. You listen to the steady beat of Bucky’s heart, and rub your hand up and down his back.

“Hey,” Bucky speaks up, apparently still awake.

“Yeah?” you say.

“Can I get a kiss goodnight?”

You smile brightly before sputtering a laugh into his chest. “I think you’ve had more than enough, tonight,” you tease.

“Awww, come ooon,” he complains, pushing himself into you. “Just one more?”

“Hmmm…” You pretend to think about it before tilting your head up. “I guess one more couldn’t hurt.”

Bucky puts his finger under your chin, and places a delicate kiss to your lips. You put little effort into it, but when he starts pulling away, you pull him right back in. He happily reciprocates, but takes it a little slower to savour the moment. When he’s had his fill, he gives one last kiss to your forehead and settles down. He gives you a proper hug as well before going back to his original position.

“Goodnight,” he says again.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

You’re not ready for the morning when you finally wake up.

Sleeping with Bucky was definitely not a bad thing, but you woke up at six in the morning, tired out of your mind. Bucky had shuffled away from you during the middle of the night, which was fine. Having room for yourself wasn’t so bad either. But going back to sleep was the hard part.

Nevertheless, you managed to fall asleep and wake up again around eleven-thirty.

Bucky is still sleeping soundly, his back to you as he curls in towards the couch. You go on your phone to pass the time. You can hear and smell your mom making breakfast. Bucky’s parents said they wanted him home before one o’clock, so you don’t have much time left with him. You’ll have to wake him up soon.

After about fifteen minutes, you decide to rouse him. You put your phone down, and gently start shaking Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey,” you whisper. “Bucky. Time to wake up. Come on.”

He groans tiredly in response, and shakes you off to pull his knees up more and clench the blankets. You sigh at his reaction, but keep trying.

“Come on, now,” you say. “I don’t want to leave a bad impression on your parents by bringing you home late. Plus, my mom is making hashbrowns and bacon. I know you like that.”

You see Bucky’s shoulders rise then fall. He stretches his arms and legs before turning around to face you. He looks a little worse for wear, considering that his hair is sticking up in every direction and he has some bags under his eyes. Despite his grogginess and rude awakening, he smiles at you.

“Morning,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

Damn that’s hot.

“Welcome to the day,” you greet. “It’s time to get up.”

“But I don’t wanna,” he counters, smushing his face into his pillow.

“Neither do I,” you agree. “But you gotta eat, and I gotta get you home. Now let’s go. My parents will probably want us to eat up there, so I can’t feed you. Sorry.”

He groans in dissatisfaction and childishly kicks his legs. You chuckle at his behaviour, but you’d honestly do the same thing. You don’t want him to leave so soon, nor get up this abruptly. But it must be done. You know you’ll get chances like this again, so you egg him on.

“Let’s go,” you say, standing up. You stretch your hand out for him, and give him a look that says “get-a-move-on”. He lets out one last sigh before taking your hand and hoisting himself out of bed. He rubs his eyes and yawns.

“This sucks,” he admits, hands on his hips.

“I know it does,” you say. “But there’s always next time.”

He smiles at you, then pulls you into a hug, squeezing tightly. You do the same and plant a kiss on his chest.

“Can’t do that either,” you say. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea.”

“Of course not,” Bucky says. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Okay, Romeo,” you joke. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

The entire time, you two remain close, sitting side-by-side on the couch while eating, but never hold hands nor kiss each other on the cheek. Bucky makes light conversation with your family, and compliments your mom on her cooking skills. She’s very pleased, but you just roll your eyes when she’s not looking.

“Kiss-ass,” you whisper, nudging his leg. He shoots you an amused grin while shoving another forkful of hashbrowns into his mouth. You scoff at him, smiling in disbelief. When you’re finished, you take Bucky’s bowl and dump them in the sink before changing into some real clothes, brushing your teeth, and going back downstairs to join Bucky. He’s already dressed, and is packing his things up. You stretch your arms over your head before yawning and burying yourself back in the blankets. Bucky smiles and joins you, and holds your wrist to kiss the back of your hand.

You can take a few minutes to enjoy his company some more before leaving.

You two stare at each other again, and this time, Bucky looks at you like you’re his whole world. And you can feel it this time. You loosely lock your fingers together and blink slowly, just drinking in his entire being. His hair is still a mess, his five o’clock shadow looks more like an eight o’clock, his shirt is wrinkly, his smile is comforting, and his eyes are still that amazing blue that you cannot get enough of.

You really love him.

But it’s way too early to be saying that out-loud.

You look at the clock on the wall, and see that it’s nearing twelve-thirty. It’s a short car ride to his house, but you always want to arrive a little earlier than the designated drop-off time. You sigh sadly, and kiss the back of his hand as well before sitting up on your knees, signaling that it’s time to go. Bucky nods and silently grabs his things before following you upstairs and to the car.

The car ride is surprisingly quiet, but there isn’t much to talk about. It’s more comforting than anything, to you at least. Peaceful, with the radio on a low volume. Bucky looks like he’s about to fall asleep again, but forces himself awake by sitting up straight in his seat. It’s a sunny afternoon, and even though you hate the sun, at this moment, it’s alright. It makes Bucky’s hair glow and his eyes light up. You wish you could take a picture of him. When you arrive at his address, you park on the side of the road and put the car in park. Neither of you say anything for a moment; you just enjoy each other’s presence for a few more seconds.

“I had a really great time,” Bucky says, breaking the silence. “We should–will, be doing this again some time.”

“I can’t wait,” you say, smiling lovingly at him. “I’ll see you later, Bucky.”

“Mm. Me too.”

He takes off his seatbelt and leans over to give you a goodbye kiss. You gratefully accept, but you both linger when he pulls away. He gives you one, two, three more pecks before opening the passenger door and walking up to the entrance of his house. You turn the car around, and wait until Bucky opens the door to wave at him and drive away.


End file.
